Curved Lines
by shadowhunter167
Summary: "They're gone, Jace, they're gone! They're dead! Why shouldn't I be too?" She was broken. He was from the start. Will they piece each other back together, or are they're lines curved in opposite directions? CLACE AU Warning: slow updates, mentions of violence and self harm...throughout.
1. Chapter 1

**HELLO SHADOWHUNTERS/DOWNWORLDERS/DEMONS. This will be my second TMI fic, and I already prefer it to my first one.**

 **If you're reading this, hi, you're awesome. I hope you like this enough to follow, fav and review(a lot ;)). If you don't, okay, this is completely to rid myself of my own boredom and try to improve my boredom.**

 **WARNING: The updates will be slow. Sometimes very slow, sometimes a little more quickly. Mostly because I have school and it kills me. Another warning: there will be mentions of violence and self harm in this story, so if you don't like reading that stuff, or it offends you I greatly apologize and don't recommend reading it at all.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I obviously don't own TMI :(**

* * *

 **~Curved Lines~**

* * *

 _Songs for chapter:_

Bastille~Pompeii

Ellie Goulding~Explosions

OneRepublic~All Fall Down

* * *

 **\\\Chapter One\\\**

When you look at the desktop on your computer, there is a background and whatever shortcuts you have. There is no paragraph of writing, not even a line, that you can highlight. Instead, when you click the mouse, and you drag it, it makes a box.

It makes a blue highlight box, or a blue line, depending on what way you drag it. But no matter which way you move that mouse, it will make a perfectly straight line, or a box with perfectly straight edges. No matter what, it will be definite, straight lines.

If you move the box in an arc over and back, the box will move side to side. If you swing it around in circles, the box will move in circles, going in and out, smaller and larger. No matter how curved of a direction you drag that mouse in, it will not curve the line.

The only lines you can make on the desktop of your computer, are perfectly, definitely, straight. There are no curved lines, they just won't appear. This is the exact opposite of life.

When you look at the palm of your hand, all the lines are curved, scattered about in an erratic pattern. The line known as your life line is curved.

This makes complete sense. Life is full of curved lines. Everyone has a path, which they make themselves. No life is set out, planned in a definite structure from the moment you're born. The little decisions you make with every breath curve the path of your life, and it changes constantly.

In _Paper Towns_ , Quentin Jacobsen believes everyone gets one miracle in life. But I believe everyone gets at least two miracles, everyday. It's a miracle when you wake up in the morning, and it's a miracle when you go back to sleep, because you've survived the day.

Anything can happen during those few hours you have to survive for, and one thing can throw you completely off track. Any little decision can curve your life off the path it was on just the second before.

So look at your computer, move your mouse. Then look at your palm. Then compare them to your life. If you can't seem to do that, maybe this story will help you.

This story is about two people, whose lives went in very curved lines. It will show how one tragic moment can make your life collapse, before another can make it explode into something better than it ever was before. It will show how two life lines can curve together, throwing you completely off track, while also making your life more definite than anything else ever could.

This story, is Curved Lines.

* * *

 _Clary POV_

I huffed out a breath as I left my last class of the day. I twisted around the corner, speed-walking to my locker because I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, and go home. I really wanted to go home.

I felt a presence beside me and I smiled as Kaelie looped her arm through mine. She smiled mischievously down at me, wiggling her eyebrows. "Okay bestie, I'm bored. We need to go boy shopping and we need to go soon. Saturday?"

I rolled my eyes at my best friend. 'Boy shopping' involved us going to the mall with her mammoth purse of credit cards while she looked out for any 'hot boys' that she could have her fun with. "What happened to Raphael?"

She rolled her eyes, patting my shoulder sadly. "I told you this Clary." I looked at her questioningly. "I'm bored," she said slowly.

I nodded, sighing. "When did you dump him?"

"Last period," she shrugged.

I pursed my lips, shaking my head. "You're never going to stop, are you?"

"I let them down easy," she defended. Her eyes traveled to something ahead of us and a smirk curved her lips. "Besides, I still haven't got to that one."

My eyes followed the direction of her gaze until I found...my brother. I groaned. "Yeah, and you're not going to either. You are never going to mess around with my brother. Just, no. Gross," I whined, wrinkling my nose.

She made a noise, mock offended. "But who could you want to be with your brother more than your best friend?" I looked at her blankly and she rolled her eyes. "What if I already have been with him?" She smiled smugly down at me.

I stopped in my tracks, narrowing my eyes as I studied her carefully. Her smug smile was stuck on firmly, but her eyes were laughing. I barked a laugh, shaking my head. "Never gonna happen."

She rolled her eyes again, tugging my arm to make me resume walking. I let her drag me along, only half paying attention as she told me every tiny detail of her breakup with her latest fling. I tuned her out completely when I caught a glimpse of gold. Jace Herondale.

I huffed as I looked at the school's best known badboy. When put like that, it makes it seem like he's the cliche type, the one that gets into the most fights and dates the most girls. Although he was known for his more-than-good fighting skills, he never talked to, never mind dated, _anyone_.

He was the school's very own Boo Radley. He never let anyone get anywhere close to him, blocked out anyone who tried. It made the female population more than a little frustrated.

Jace was hot, that was an obvious fact. His golden mane of hair and gilt, catlike eyes, he was like a lion. His dark expression only added to the effect. His strong physique was only ever obvious in P.E., as that was the only time he ever appeared without his beloved leather jacket. Although I was pretty sure everyone had already guessed.

The only thing any of us knew about Jace Herondale was that he was adopted, and actually showed his adoptive siblings, Alec and Isabelle Lightwood, more than a facade. No matter how hard, or how many times I tried to figure him out, I got nowhere. Everyone else, I could figure out in a second. It just frustrated me that he was so... _closed_.

I was brought out of my thoughts as Kaelie suddenly stopped, and I realized we were at my locker. I also realized that Jace was gone, along with almost everyone else.

Kaelie let go of my arm, fluffling her long, platinum blonde hair. "Alright babe, we're on for Saturday, yeah? I'll tell Seelie too, and I'll call you later."

I blinked as she waved and walked past me. I spun around to look after her as my eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, Kaelie, I didn't–"

"Bye Clare!" She cut me off, holding her hand up in the air and waving it once.

I blew out a breath, shaking my head and turning to my locker. I exchanged my books quickly before closing the locker with a slam, throwing my bag over my shoulder. I made my way out of the school, grateful that it wasn't raining. I hated walking home, but I hated walking home with my jeans and sweater sticking to me more.

It was a little less horrible that the house was close, only about a ten minute walk from the school. I spent the ten minutes shivering, silently scolding myself for not wearing a jacket. I sighed in relief as my house came into view, tempted to run the rest of the way. After taking a quick glance around, I did allow myself to break into a light jog.

I reached my house to find the door open. Although it was only open about an inch, and you couldn't see it unless you were right in front of it, it was still open.

I pushed it open cautiously, pursing my lips as I stepped over the threshold. I walked into the hallway only to wish I had stayed outside.

I covered my mouth as I violent sob left me and my eyes widened at the sight hanging in front of me.

Both my parents were there, hanging from the chandelier by what looked to be belts. The rough material dug into their necks, making the area around it a deep shade of purple.

Their eyes were open and lifeless as their bodies swung slightly, and I suddenly thought the belts were going to break. There were no other visible marks on their bodies except for one lone cut running from my mother's eyebrow to her cheekbone. Her usually bright green eyes were so dull.

I let out more sobs as tears streamed from my eyes, viciously shaking my head and telling myself to wake up. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn't be real. They hadn't killed themselves, they wouldn't, especially not like this. It was a nightmare where my parents had been killed.

My world was ending right in front of me. I suddenly wished the roof would fall in on me, or a gaping black hole would open the ground under me, sucking me in. Memories of them flashed before my eyes. All the holidays, family dinners, Christmases, all the good and the bad times were playing in my head like a home video. _Why was this happening?_

I heard a crash, and I did the stupidest thing I've done in my entire life.

I screamed.

* * *

 _Jace POV_

I strolled to my bike carelessly, more than a little pissed at my siblings. Alec was the source of the problem—he had left something at Morgenstern's, and I had to go get it. Izzy was apparently 'busy,' meaning she just really didn't care because she knew I would cave.

Alec had football practice, meaning he actually was busy, and I had no choice but to give in to his nagging. I huffed, lifting my helmet and swinging a leg over the seat. My bike was my baby, it was the only source of freedom I had. I don't think I'd ever be able to afford a car, so I protected my bike with my life. Which was kind of pointless because if I was dead I wouldn't need it and—never mind.

I kicked down the pedal, grinning as it thrummed to life beneath me. The drive to the Morgenstern's was short and I prayed that there was nobody home. Valentine Morgenstern was not a man I particularly wanted to encounter, but I guess I wouldn't mind having to be in the presence of Mrs. Fray. I was hoping it would only take me a few minutes anyway.

It was really weird, the whole last name thing. I guess Jocelyn just wanted to keep her maiden name. But then Jonathan used Morgenstern and Clary used Fray. It was just weird.

Jonathan had football practice, but Clary, well she would most likely be at home. I'd rather run into Valentine.

The thing about Clarissa Fray was that I just couldn't hate her. With every idiot in that school, I hated them, or I ignored them—I could shut them out. But there was something about Clary that I couldn't hate or ignore. There was also the fact that she was different—she didn't make rumours or shove her breasts in my face.

She also didn't _try_. She was polite when I ever had to talk to her, and she didn't make a damn fuss about it. She was interesting to me, and I didn't like that.

I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts as I pulled into the driveway. I pulled off my helmet, balancing it on the handlebars as I ran a hand through my hair. I sighed, slowly getting off my bike and making my way to the door. Which was open.

I frowned. I had detention after school, Clary would have been home before I got here. She wouldn't have left the door open, would she? Maybe someone came out to get something? Well, that was stupid because there was no one out here, and they still would have closed the door.

I shook my head, deciding to just go in and stop standing there like an idiot. A coppery smell hit me as soon as I stepped through the door and I flinched. The smell was all too familiar to me, and I had to hold my breath to stop myself from gagging.

I inched my way inside, not wanting to have to see the source of the smell, but at the same time praying that no one was hurt, and knowing I'd want to help if they were. I turned into the main hall, and felt my blood run cold.

"Oh, God, no, please no," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. I shook my head rapidly as the memories threatened to come screaming back, the images just on the fringes of my mind, his screams and their laughter ringing in my ears. I forced them away, hesitantly opening my eyes, hoping to find my ceiling above me and my bed underneath me.

But the horrifying image was still there. Valentine and Jocelyn had been killed, and hung from their own chandelier in their own hallway. My breath left me, lips parting in sorrow as I thought about what this would do to Jonathan and Clary.

Oh god, _Clary_. Where was she? She mustn't have went straight home, maybe she stayed for her brother at practice or maybe she went to her friend's house or something. School ended like an hour ago, she couldn't be here.

Football practice didn't end for about another forty five minutes, I'd have to wait outside or something to make sure Jonathan didn't have to see this. I nodded to myself, about to go do that when I heard a small whimpering sound behind me. Then again. Then again, and again.

I whirled around to see Clary curled up in the corner, crying quietly—wearing only a bra and underwear. I instinctively averted my eyes but realization immediately hit when I saw the fresh bruises littering her skin, blood leaving tainting marks and matting her hair.

"Shit," I breathed. I peeled off my jacket before pulling off my shirt and putting my jacket back on. I slowly made my way over to her, carefully kneeling down by her side.

"Clary," I said softly. She lifted her head from her hands, looking up at me with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. A lump formed in my throat as I took in her pained expression and I carefully held the shirt out to her. "Here, put this on."

She slowly took it with shaking hands, fumbling around with it. I shook my head, reaching out to take it back from her again. "Let me help." Her head shot back up to look at me and I smiled softly. I reached out again to gently pull the shirt over her head. She shakily put her arms through and I let it fall down her sides.

I suddenly realized she was still crying. I unconsciously reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, moving closer. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head slowly, then more quickly as her sniffles grew into sobs. "No." Her expression was so pained I couldn't stop myself from scooping her up in my arms and pulling her to me.

She complied wholly, clinging onto my jacket and burying her face in my neck. I lightly rubbed her back, my eyes flickering to her parents. I stood up, keeping Clary securely in my arms as I walked back out of the hall. I walked past the front door and into their living room.

I moved to set her down on the couch but her arms moved to wrap around my neck, holding on tightly. "Jace," her voice cracked. "Please stay with me."

I pursed my lips, feeling slightly out of my comfort zone. But it was because I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I tightened my hold on her and I heard her let out a breath. "I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. I'm right here."

I turned around to sit on the couch myself, keeping my arms around Clary as she curled up on my lap, resting her head on my chest. I frowned when I heard she was still crying quietly and I moved my hand to stroke her hair soothingly. "What happened Clary?"

She let out a sob. "I came here a-and the door was open. I just walked in and saw them, hanging there. There was a crash, and I screamed, and then they were there. There was two of them. I, I tried to run but they caught me and, they," she broke off, violent sobs racking through her small form.

I pulled her closer to me, resting my chin on the top of her head. "It's okay, you're okay, you're safe now. You don't have to say it."

She took a deep breath, shaking her head. "They—raped me. I couldn't do anything. I didn't, see their faces, I didn't see anything. I don't know who they are. I can't remember any of it Jace. I just remember seeing them running at me and then—nothing."

I nodded, the movement ruffling her hair. "That doesn't matter. As long as you're safe now." She leaned further into me in reply. "I should call the police," I realized suddenly. "God, I'm so stupid."

Clary shook her head. "You're not stupid. Thank you Jace."

I looked at her questioningly. "I didn't do anything."

She shook her head again. "You're here, and I—I feel safe. Thank you."

I smiled slightly. "You're welcome." I pulled my phone out, quickly dialing 911. A too chirpy lady on the other end of the line assured they'd be there in ten minutes. How are those people always so _happy_ in these situations?

I rolled my eyes, about to shove my phone back in pocket when Clary's small hand shot out and circled my wrist.

"Jon," she said. I raised an eyebrow. "He can't see, this. He can't come home, Jace, you can't let him come in here," she pleaded with me, her eyes shining with more tears.

I nodded in realization, patting her arm reassuringly. "It's fine. I'll tell Alec to keep him away. Your brother won't even make it to the street until you want him to, I promise."

A tight smile fought its way to her lips. "Okay."

I typed in a vague text, but it was enough for Alec to know it was serious. With that thought, _I_ realized how serious this was. I had just found two people dead. The image of their hanging bodies flashed in my mind and I shuddered, trying to force away the memories.

But they stayed at the forefront of my mind like ugly scars I couldn't get rid of, and as they played out for the millionth time, I started to shake. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears as my breathing started to get shallow.

I felt bile rise in my throat when I heard a small choking noise that immediately snapped me out of my haunting thoughts. I looked down to see Clary's cheeks stained with fresh tears, her small body shaking with pained sobs.

I looked at her sadly, having no idea how anything I could do could possibly comfort her right now. I tried anyway, gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back soothingly. I realized that she was actually trying to hold in her sobs and I shook my head disapprovingly.

"No, c'mon Clary, don't do that. Let it out, it's okay, it's just me. It's just me, don't cause yourself any more pain. It's okay to cry Clary." By the time I had finished my little speech she was sobbing freely, and I suddenly thought maybe that wasn't the best idea.

I shook that thought away when I saw her expression was now slightly less pained. But the pain was still very much there, and as I thought about what she would still have to go through from here, I couldn't help but lean down to press a featherlight kiss on the crown of her head.

She stared up at me and I gave her a gentle smile, wiping away her tears. She licked her lips before trying to speak, but it came out as a croak. She cleared her throat before trying again. "Are _you_ okay?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Me? What do you mean?" Why in the world would she think she needed to ask _me_ that question right now?

She shrugged slowly, choosing her next words carefully. "You're just so calm. It's like you've done this before or something."

I nodded, about to tell her when I snapped to my senses, my eyes going blank as I shut down, my expression stoic. "I just thought freaking out wouldn't be very helpful to you right now."

She flinched at my slightly harsh tone and I internally winced, but managed to keep my impassive mask. "Oh," she said quietly. "Thank you."

She was leaning away from me now, her expression empty and body deflated. I pursed my lips, wishing I wasn't such an idiot. "I'm sorry," I blurted quietly.

Her gaze snapped back to mine, looking up at me curiously. She slowly shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I should've known better than to ask you something like that. It's none of my business anyway, it's no one's but yours."

I opened my mouth before snapping it closed again. Usually, when someone said something like that, I replied with a bitter remark. It also didn't help that their expression was always one of pity. But with Clary, our expressions were of mutual apology, and the way she said it didn't make me feel bitter, but grateful.

I nodded slowly, pulling her back to my chest and lightly brushing my lips against her temple. It surprised her and myself every time I did that. I didn't understand why I kept feeling the need to kiss her, but I told myself it's because of the extreme situation and the fact that she needed the comfort right now.

That was definitely all it was. Uhuh.

I needed to stop thinking. Like right now. But that was kinda hard when her hands were resting on my bare chest, making the skin under them feel like fire. Besides, I couldn't exactly just up and leave her there alone, could I? I sighed frustratedly.

I blame Alec.

* * *

 **Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Guys, I am so sorry for the long wait. This chapter still wouldn't have got here without the help of wood painted flesh who is totally awesome and has amazing stories that you should so check out if you haven't already. Thank all of you so much for the follows, favs, and reviews on the first chapter. They mean the world to me and I can't thank you guys enough for giving this story a chance. I guess now it's my job to make you guys stick around :) Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

* * *

 **~Chapter Two~**

* * *

 _Clary POV_

I couldn't breathe. My chest was caving in, my eyes and throat burning. My insides were on fire, charring away at bones that felt broken. Everything hurt, from the bruises on my skin to my heart that was falling to pieces.

The image of my parents was etched permanently in my mind, their vacant eyes haunting me. I felt like I had been killed too, and now I was in the arms of the golden angel who would take me away, to peace. To my parents.

But I knew it wasn't that easy. I was still alive. I was here, and they weren't. But they should be.

I was sobbing again. I only noticed when I felt Jace's arms tighten around me, his hand soothingly stroking my hair as his low voice whispered sweet lies into my ear.

"Why didn't they kill me too," I sobbed. "They should have killed me too, I wish they'd killed me."

"No, no Clary, you don't, shh," Jace pleaded. "What would that do to your brother? He needs you Clary, and I know you can both get through this."

I shook my head rapidly. "I can't, I can't, my parents—" a wave of shudders rolled through me and I broke off into more sobs, burying my face in his shoulder.

Jace lightly moved his hand along my spine, his other one hugging me closer. "I know it hurts Clary, I know," he murmured, smoothing down my hair. I waited, but he didn't say anything else. It was then that I noticed the pain in his voice.

I moved my arms from between us to wrap them around his shaking torso, the soft leather of his jacket smooth against my skin. I tried to swallow the rest of my sobs, ignoring the tingling in my arm where it touched Jace's bare chest. I took deep breaths, the unfamiliar scent of his cologne filling my nostrils and giving me thoughts of woods and rivers.

He shivered at my breath on his skin, and I regretted the words that came out of my mouth even before I said them. "Does it get better?"

He froze, but I felt his hands begin to tremble, making me feel horrible. He hesitated before answering quietly, "It'll eventually be easier to handle, you'll be able to ignore it, even." _But no, it never gets better_ , is what he didn't add.

"I'm sorry for crying on your jacket," I sniffed, "and for stealing your shirt."

He shook his head, making a sound only half like a laugh. "That's okay." He paused. "Shit, I should get you your own clothes—why didn't I _think_ of that? You must be...you must be—"

My eyes widened and I tightened my hold on him, shaking my head hopelessly. "Jace, please don't leave me."

"Clary," he said calmly. "I'll be right back, I promise. Where's your room?"

 _Please_. "Upstairs, the only door to the left."

He nodded, slowly standing with me still in his arms, clinging to him tightly. He turned around to gently set me down on the soft cushions and I reluctantly loosened my grip on his jacket. He brushed my hair from my face, his tawny eyes reassuring. "I'll be right back."

I nodding, releasing him completely. He disappeared quickly, and it took no more than a second for the panic to set in.

 _I screamed. The door crashed open. There were two of them in black, coming for me. All I could see was their eyes, dark, cold, empty. I froze, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe..._

I tried to block the image from my head. What had just happened. But there was no stopping it, like a freight train coming towards me at full force. It was a quick flash, but I relived it all again.

I forced myself off the couch before heaving, heavy shudders coursing through my body as I fell to my knees. I threw up everything in my stomach. Throat dry, eyes burning and head pounding, I laid down on the cold hardwood floor, a few feet away from the vomit. I was a little embarrassed, but there was nothing that could be done about it. About everything that had happened today.

I let myself deflate right there on the floor, allowing myself to mourn a little more.

Thundering footfalls down the stairs made me flinch and cower until I remembered— _Jace_.

He stopped a few feet in front of me. My eyes trailed from his boots, up his legs to his face. He was carrying an abundance of my clothes, like he'd had no idea what to choose for me. But his face was etched with anguish. "Oh, Clary," he breathed. He set my clothes down and helped me to stand up.

I collapsed against him and his arms shot out to catch me, pulling me back to him. I latched onto his shoulders, surprised to find comfort just by his presence. "Clary, what _happened_? Why were you screaming?"

I looked up at him in confusion. "I was screaming?"

His eyes widened before he pursed his lips, nodding sadly. I was screaming, and I didn't even notice. "But," I choked. "You must think I'm crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy," Jace sighed. "If anything, you're _under_ reacting. You have every reason to scream, cry, throw up. That's not even including the physical pain you must be in." His grip on me suddenly loosened. "Gods, I'm sorry Clary, I didn't even think how much I could be hurting you."

"Don't you dare call yourself stupid again, and please stop apologizing. You didn't hurt me."

He nodded slowly, his hold tightening again. He placed a featherlight kiss on my head before speaking quietly. "The police will be here soon. You should get dressed."

I looked at the pile of clothes he had gathered and laughed once. "I know it's cold and everything but don't you think that's a little much?"

His lips turned up in a crooked, barely there smile. "I didn't know what you would want and then," he trailed off, his eyes flicking to the substance on the floor that, ten minutes ago, was in my stomach. "You should get changed and I'll go look for something to clean that up."

He went to leave again when I grabbed his arm. "Wait!" He looked at me curiously, eyebrow raised. I faltered, not wanting to have to beg him not to leave me again but knowing I totally would if it came down to it. "I know where everything is, just uhm, wait and I'll come with you."

His eyes had already darkened in understanding. He nodded, smiling softly. "Of course."

I let out a nervous breath, turning to the pile of clothes that was now slowly slipping off the arm of the couch. I looked through them as Jace turned to lean against the door, trying to give me as much privacy as he could without leaving the room. I smiled slightly at the gesture.

I managed to find a pair of thick gray leggings and a plain black hoody. I–somewhat reluctantly–pulled off Jace's shirt, unable to stop myself from taking a sniff as the soft fabric came over my head. I put on my own clothes, wincing as I noticed the dark blotches on my skin.

"You okay?" I heard Jace ask quietly, his back still turned me as I pulled on the one pair of black flats I always left beside the couch. I turned to look at him and a small smile tugged at my lips. _How can I ever thank him for this?_

"I'm fine," I replied softly, walking up behind him.

He looked over his shoulder slightly before turning around and giving me a small smile. A tiny frown flitted across his lips as I handed him his shirt, but it was gone almost instantly as he smiled again and muttered a thanks. His eyes trailed past me and his smile tightened. "How about we go get something to clean that up?"

I nodded slightly, the small smile he had put on my face disappearing. I moved to follow him out the door before I remembered, and I halted in my steps, reaching out to snatch the back of Jace's jacket. He stopped instantly, turning around to look at me in concern. I looked past him, in the direction of the hall, and started to quickly shake my head as my chest filled with panic. "I can't–"

I broke off before I finished. But it didn't matter, because Jace's eyes had already widened in understanding. A spark of anger flitted across his eyes, and I knew it was directed at himself. His jaw clenched with his fists before his eyes shot back up to me, and he seemed to deflate. He reached out to stroke my cheek gently, and I always surprised myself when I leaned into his touch instead of flinching away.

He took a step closer to me and I involuntarily leaned towards his warmth. "That's not important. It'll be fine. How about we just go outside and wait? Get you some fresh air."

I nodded, smiling gratefully; I really wanted to see my brother.

"I want Jon," I said quietly. I leaned even closer to him, resting my forehead against his chest—which I too late realised was still bare.

He stiffened slightly and I was about to move back when he moved his hand from my cheek to stroke my hair. "Of course. That's easy to get for you at least. I can text Alec." He paused. "Or do you want to call him, tell him what's happened?" His voice was soft, and he seemed to move closer as he said it. But that may have just been my comfort-craving, hopeful imagination.

I debated internally before shaking my head. "I don't think I can," I whispered.

Now he _did_ pull me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist while his other hand still stroked my hair. "That's okay," he comforted me. "It wouldn't be the best idea for him to find out over the phone anyway. You don't have to be the one to tell him in person either if you don't want to."

I shook my head, hugging him back. "I should tell him. He shouldn't have to hear this from someone else. I need to be there for him." More so, I needed _him_ to be there for _me_.

"Okay. Just try not to cause yourself unnecessary pain while doing it alright? I can feel you shaking as it is." His hold on me tightened at this, and again I felt unbelievably grateful to have him with me.

His affectionate nature surprised me, and only made my curiosity towards him grow. At this moment, I appreciated it too much to actually think about it. He knew exactly what words to say to make me feel better, which also surprised and confused me, because he didn't really _know me_.

But, by his expression sometimes, I knew he was also confusing himself. I was also pretty sure if I saw him again tomorrow, it would be like this never happened. Jace didn't get involved with anyone, and I was willing to bet he wasn't going to start now.

"You should probably put your shirt back on before we go outside," I said lightly.

He stiffened and I smiled slightly when he pulled away with a flush in his cheeks. "Ah, right, thanks," he mumbled, already starting to shrug his jacket off.

I shrugged. "Least I could do is stop you from getting a-" I cut off abruptly as he raised his arms slightly, the muscles in his abdomen rippling as his chest flexed and I choked on a breath. He pulled his shirt on and I was only able to take another breath when it fell down his sides. He raised a fine eyebrow and I smiled slightly, meekly finishing, "cold."

His golden eyes were dark and serious as he stared at me, slipping his jacket back on. "You don't owe me anything Clary, you know that right?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

"You don't owe me anything. For being here, or whatever. Please don't think you have to do anything for me because of today. You don't owe me for being here, okay?"

 _It's more than that_ , I wanted to tell him, to thank him–but even I wasn't sure of how exactly he'd saved me today. Then I understood why he'd said that.

He didn't want me to think I owed him anything because he didn't want to get involved. Today didn't mean anything. Tomorrow, we'd go back to being strangers.

So I held back my thanks. I held back everything I wanted to say, everything from thanking him to questioning him to ask him what would happen to me now to pleading. Instead I nodded and forced a tired smile. "Okay."

He stared at me, then, his delicate eyebrows furrowed, the only movement in his whole body his flickering eyes. They searched over my face, lingering on spots I knew were cut and bruised. I ducked my head against his gaze, letting my hair fall to curtain my face. There was nothing for a moment, then he brushed it away, tucking the fiery strands behind my ear as I looked back up at him.

He looked down at me, his expression holding both something sad and something gentle. He was suddenly cupping my face, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones lightly as his eyes grew serious again. "You're going to get through this Clary. You're going to be fine, alright?"

I closed my eyes, hearing his breath hitch as a tear slipped down my cheek, not getting very far before he hastily wiped it away and once again pulled me to his chest. He rushed to apologise as he stroked my hair; I clung to him as the comfort of his presence rushed through me. "Shit, Clary, I'm sorry. Dammit why do I keep making you cry," he stressed.

I shook my head against his chest and held him tighter. Didn't he understand yet? "If you hadn't been here, I don't think I would have stopped. You didn't have to do any of this but you did. I wasn't expecting you to do this, to even stay, and I still don't really understand but right now I've never been more thankful for anything."

It took him only a second to bury his face in my hair. "This shouldn't have happened to you. Nothing like this should ever have happened to you. Are you still in pain?"

I nodded hesitantly, trying desperately to ignore the ache pulsing through my every cell. I suddenly couldn't stop the thought of them, suddenly felt their hands on my skin, grabbing, bruising, wandering. I started to shake in Jace's arms, burying myself closer just as he'd started to pull away, and a new wave of sobs began to make their way to my throat.

They quickly began to die there as Jace crushed me to him, his hands moving, wandering, comforting. I was able to breathe as they moved; smoothing my hair, stroking my spine, rubbing my arms, gripping my waist as he somehow managed to hold my broken form together.

"You'll learn to forget Clary," he murmured. "You'll learn to push away the thoughts, to stop feeling the pain, to be okay. I promise you, Clary, I promise you'll be okay."

I nodded again as the memories stopped and I matched my breathing to the steady beat of his heart. Only when my breathing steadied and I shed no more tears could I bring myself to pull away. I smiled up at him, this time stronger and truer. I hesitantly cupped his cheek as I allowed myself to believe him, agreeing, "I'll be okay. I'll get through this, just like you said."

He looked at me, and suddenly, I could see him. His eyes were suddenly unguarded, as if a fog I hadn't even realised had been there had lifted. Then they were closed as he leaned into my touch for only a second before almost wrenching himself away. He seemed to stumble slightly before he steadied himself, blinking. He looked at me again, and my heart clenched—now I realised, now I could recognize the lack of emotion in his gaze.

"We should go. I have to text Alec and tell him to bring your brother now," he said, clearing his throat as he heard the hoarseness in his voice.

I nodded numbly, following him to the door. I stiffened as we made it to the front door, looking towards the hallway. Jace effectively blocked my view by pulling me to his side and walking out to the front. He closed the door behind him, not releasing me until we reached his bike, and he patted the seat. "Have a seat and I'll get you your brother."

I smiled slightly, leaning back against his bike. It would be difficult to get on the thing on a good day, I wasn't going to embarrass myself trying now. Jace looked at me curiously for a moment before turning to stand in front of me. I froze when he put his hands on my waist, my lips parting slightly in shock.

He gripped my sides, lifting me effortlessly off the ground and setting me on the bike seat. He let go of me with a smile before turning away and pulling his phone out of his pocket. I smiled at realising it made me taller than him, but not even by an inch.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket a minute later, turning back to me with that tiny, crooked smile. He opened his mouth to say something just as the cop car came sliding around the corner and pulled to a stop in front of us. Jace whirled back around and his expression tightened.

He stepped back until he was leaning back against his bike next to me. He stood close, and my knee rested against his hip. I couldn't help but lean towards him slightly, wanting to be encased in his warmth again. Two men hopped out of the car and walked to us quickly.

The shorter one squinted at us and placed his hands on his hips. "I'm Officer Verlac, he's Officer Branwell. This the place that reported the murder?"

My heart pinched and I felt like I'd been winded as my hand snapped out to latch on to Jace's wrist. He reached out and placed his arm over my legs, pulling me closer to his side. I kept my right hand around his wrist, resting on my knee, while curling my left around his side and leaning on his arm that was held taut in front of me. "Yeah I think the grass called you about twenty minutes ago," Jace told them seriously.

The officer gave him a look of irritation while his companion seemed to be holding in laughter. I couldn't help but smile as I leaned over to whisper in Jace's ear. "That was terrible," I informed him.

He looked at me, his lips turning up at the corners when he noticed my tiny smile. "It only had to be bad enough to make you smile," he replied quietly. My smile widened slightly.

The short, grumpy officer rolled his eyes. "You kids are cute but we don't exactly have time to waste on your little jokes. We're gonna go take a look inside and then we're going to need statements from both of you."

He walked off without another word, his partner following after giving us a gentle smile. "I didn't think about having to give statements," I admitted, my voice tight.

Jace tightened his grip on me in response. I let my head fall on his shoulder as my fingers curled in his jacket. He turned his head to kiss the crown of mine, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Neither did I if I'm being honest. I'll stay with you the whole time, alright?"

"Do you think they'll be okay with that?"

He dropped his hand from my cheek and turned to face me, placing his hands on the bike either side of me. "If it's what you want, I'll make sure they are. I don't trust any of those idiots." His eyes narrowed slightly.

I nodded, letting out a breath. "I wish Jon was here but I'm also really glad that he's not. I can't tell him Jace. How the hell am I supposed to tell him about this?"

Jace's shoulders sagged in response. He didn't say anything, but he did slip his hands into mine, squeezing comfortingly.

I felt my eyes begin to water again, and suddenly the anger hit. The complete and utter brokenness I had been feeling morphed and twisted into sharp tendrils of fury at all of it. At what had happened to my parents and what had happened to me and at the people who had caused it and at myself, for not remembering, for not being able to do something, and for putting Jace in this situation.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, feeling terrible. "You shouldn't have to be in this situation. It's nothing to do with you yet here you are, being all sweet and caring and great when we're not even friends," I barely registered his flinch, "and all I've done is freaked you out and got tears and possibly vomit on your shirt. Probably blood too."

But Jace was already shaking his head rapidly. "Stop. I don't care about the damn shirt Clary. It's not even close to your fault that I'm 'in this situation'. Do you think I'd rather you had to go through this by yourself? Is that it? Do you think I wish I'd never come and you were still curled up in that corner, where you could see them, crying and hurt and freezing?"

I started to shake my head, about to give a meek reply, but he ploughed on. "I don't. I really, really don't. And out of the two of us, I've probably freaked you out more. Because we're not friends," now _he_ ignored _my_ flinch, "and I'm not sweet or caring or great but I can't stop touching you and holding you and kissing you, and frankly, I'm scaring the crap out of myself. Because all I'm feeling is this urge to just pick you up and take you away from it all and hold you until you're completely pain free and happy again."

I looked at him with wide eyes as he took a ragged breath, looking away from me and composing himself before speaking again quietly. "I feel crazy. I can't stop thinking all of this even when I know as soon as today's over we'll go back to being strangers."

His voice sounded pain, and I resisted the urge to throw myself at him and just hug him tightly. I settled for tightening my hold on his hands. "We don't have to be," I muttered, trying to bat down the hopefulness in me.

He finally looked at me again, his eyes gentle but sad. He smiled weakly, looking down at our clasped hands. He stroked my knuckles gently. "I wish I could agree."

My hopes deflated a lot faster at that, and my hands slackened around his. I hung my head as my shoulders slumped. His hands tightened around mine again and squeezed in what seemed to be an apology. Why was this boy so confusing?

"Alright, miss, do you mind telling us what you know?"

I jumped as the officers appeared beside us suddenly again. Jace didn't loosen his hold, which I was grateful for. "I just, came home from school. The door was open a little, and I just went in and saw them. Just hanging there," my voice sounded quiet and my eyes were unfocused, the only thing still keeping me in the present was Jace's hands gripping mine.

The officer seemed to soften. At least, his voice did. "Did you notice or see anything that might help us identify who did this?"

My throat tightened and I nodded robotically, my voice coming out as a whisper this time. "I saw _them_."

"They were still in the house?" It was Officer Branwell this time, the one that seemed a little nicer. He sounded disbelieving, his eyebrows pulled together. I realised he was wondering how I was still alive.

Jace tugged me forward slightly as I nodded again, and I quickly found myself hugged to his chest almost protectively, his arms that rested around me strong and comforting. "Maybe we should leave this for later," he suggested, although his tone didn't leave much room for disagreement.

Bad cop didn't seem to notice. "The sooner we know everything the sooner we can investigate," he explained gently. "We just need a quick recount of what happened and anything about them you remember. We understand it's hard."

Jace scoffed under his breath, hugging me closer, and I knew he was about to give a not-so-sweet reply. I slid my arms around his waist. "It's fine," I assured him shakily. "They need to know everything they can."

"Exactly," Officer Verlac quickly agreed. "It should only take a few minutes."

"Fine," Jace spat. "You wanna know what she remembers? _Nothing_. She doesn't remember what the looked like, or what they sounded like, or what they fucking _smelled like_. The only thing she does remember? They raped her. They raped her and left her hurt in the corner of the hall; where she could see them, too. Oh but don't worry, they were nice enough to leave her undergarments so that she wouldn't be completely indecent but whoever found her would still know exactly what the sick bastards did to her."

He was shaking slightly in my arms, his hands curled into fists where they rested on my back. The recount of what happened probably would have caused the tears to come back but my eyes remained dry, my lips parted slightly as I felt Jace tense in my hold to try and still his shaking.

The officers seemed to have been stunned into silence. "I'm sorry," Officer Branwell said softly. "I understand that you want to protect your girlfriend, but we need both of you to cooperate calmly with us."

Jace exhaled shakily, nodding in acceptance. "We're not together," he corrected quietly, but he placed a comforting kiss on my hair, his arms still wound around me with his hands resting slackly on my back again.

Both officers looked at me patiently. I licked my lips and gave a small shrug. "That's all I could've told. I heard something in the kitchen, and I screamed. I remember them running at me and then it's just blank. I got a few flashes, but it's like everything's in black and white."

Just as I finished, a shiny black Porsche crawled to a stop behind the cop car. Alec's shiny black Porsche.

I took a shuddering breath as the passenger door opened, and suddenly he was calling my name. Jace released me quickly, but carefully, and only a moment later my brother's arms replaced his.

I let out a sob as I fell into him, clinging on to his football jacket, finding immense comfort in the familiarity of him. "Clary," he breathed anxiously. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you alright?"

I choked out more sobs as I shook my head against his chest. "They're gone, Jon. Mom and Dad are gone." I looked up at him, bracing my hands on his shoulders. "They're dead," I whispered.

I watched as his whole self seemed to crumble, and he stared at me in complete shock before choking on tears and falling back into my arms. He clung to me, and I held him just as tightly, allowing my heart to hope that as long as I had him to hold, we would be okay.

* * *

 _Jace POV_

I took deep breaths when I finally released Clary, stumbling back a few feet to give them their space. I felt my heart ache as I watched her tell her brother, so badly wanting to hold her again. I flinched slightly when I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, but relaxed when I saw the familiar blue eyes looking at me in concern. _Alec_.

"Are you okay Jace?" He spoke quietly and knowingly. He already knew my answer to that question. He always did.

I let out a ragged breath. "I'll be fine. It's not me I'm worried about right now." I was still staring at Clary. He followed my gaze to the pair before looking back at me and squeezing my shoulder.

Officer Branwell walked over to us silently. "Jace, right?" I nodded. "We're going to need you to come down to the station to make an official statement." He gave me an apologetic look when I grimaced.

"That's fine," I muttered.

Alec patted my back encouragingly. "I'll call mom and dad. Tell them to meet us there." I nodded in acknowledgement before he walked off, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Branwell clasped my shoulder, smiling reassuringly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Come on. Let's get you through this quickly, alright?"

* * *

We had only been in the station a few minutes when Clary pulled me aside. She wrapped her small hands around my forearms tightly, looking up at me with a hopeful expression.

"Jace," she said anxiously, her voice hushed. "Please don't tell Jon what happened to me. I can't tell him what they did to me. Please, Jace, he can't know."

I stared down at her with my lips parted in disbelief. "Clary," I said incredulously, "he has to know. You need him to be there for you. You can't hide something like this, especially not from your brother. I still think I should've taken you to the hospital for Christ's sake. Clary, you can't seriously have to do this on your own."

"Jace," she whispered, closing her eyes briefly, " _please_."

I wanted to protest, wanted to tell her I couldn't let her do this, that I refused to agree with leaving her source of support in the dark about this. _I wanted to be able to tell her that she wasn't on her own. That she had me._

But I couldn't do that, and she was staring up at me with pleading eyes, her expression worn and tired. I slowly started to nod, swallowing the knot in my throat. "Okay," I promised softly. "I won't tell anyone."

She let out a breath, releasing my arms only to wrap hers around my waist, hugging me tightly. "Thank you. For everything."

I froze, my eyes flitting around uncertainly before I wrapped my arms around her in return. I tangled my hand in her hair, placing one last kiss on her temple. "Your welcome," I murmured.

We released each other when we heard the chime of the door opening. I smiled slightly at the sight of my adoptive parents. Maryse spotted us almost immediately and made her way over.

"Oh, there you two are, are you alright?" She looked between us both in concern, reaching out a hand to rest on Clary's arm comfortingly.

I nodded and Clary give her a small smile. "I wouldn't be if it wasn't for Jace."

My eyes widened slightly. Maryse and Robert looked at me questioningly but I barely noticed as I smiled softly at the redhead in front of me.

I only stopped looking at her when Verlac and Branwell appeared next to us once again. "I'm glad you're here. Can you all come with us?"

* * *

"They don't have anywhere to stay?" Maryse repeated.

Officer Verlac nodded. "That's what I said, yes."

Alec looked at him in confusion. "But, it's their house. They can still stay there."

This time Verlac shook his head. "Yes, it is their house. But neither of them are old enough to own it or live in it alone legally. And as far as we know, there are no living relatives. We were hoping you could tell us there was, or maybe even a family friend that would take them in."

Clary huffed from her spot next to me. "Yeah, because asking Jon and I if anyone our parents knew that would take us in would just be ridiculous," she muttered under her breath.

I stifled a laugh and a choked noise came out instead. Everyone in the room paused, turning their gazes to me. I stared back at them all blankly before clearing my throat. Their gazes all turned away again slowly, but I could still feel one, directed at the side of my head and causing my skin to burn slightly.

I looked over at Clary with her tiny smile and raised brows and gave her a crooked grin. Her smile only widened slightly before she turned away again.

"Is there anyone you know of? Far out relatives? Maybe ones that aren't in the state?" Verlac was asking again.

Maryse and Robert sat quietly for a moment. Then Maryse straightened in her seat, pushed back her shoulders, and looked at the officers with determination.

"Us," she said firmly. "They're going to live with us."


End file.
